Blasphemy Shouldn't Feel So Right
by NotObsessedbutDedicated
Summary: "If a thing loves, it is infinite." There's something to be said about love which was forbidden in the dark times, but it still existed. Hoping, always hoping. This story is a journey of two men, Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane, the exploration of love. Will they find salvation, or will they be condemned?
1. Of Familial Mistakes

**Hello! My name is Pat, age 15, and this is my first story on FFn. Do tell me if it sucks, for even though I'm not inexperienced in the field of fanfiction, I've been known to make my plot go awry when I'm not paying attention.**

Social hierarchy in 1814 London was like a slippery ladder. Each social group occupied a different rung, a different sphere of power, whoever they were: Rich aristocrats, the middle class, the labourers.

London in this era was class, status and refinery. The Aristocrats and bourgeoisie were nothing short of conceited little sacks of money, their ancestors' hard earned money washed away with the power of their vanity. But Lord Alexander Lightwood was not one of these people in the least. There was nothing conceited about him, and people thought he was the most suited heir to the Estate.

Presently, one would find him in his study, reading an invitation to the Exhibition organised in Hull that evening. His dear friend Aline Penhallow took the liberty of informing him of this Exhibition she'd organised herself, showcasing her art. It was quite uncommon, not to mention impertinent to have a woman undertake such work upon herself. But Aline never had been one to stick to the definitive rules.

He heard a swishing of skirts in the hallway, followed by a series of smart taps on the mahogany door.

"Come in, Isabelle!" He said and put down the letter, rubbing his eyes.

She came in, shutting the door behind her with a bang. Quite bashful and snippy, that was Isabelle.

"Oh, there you are, brother. Jace supposed you'd be here, reading those old books of yours. What is it this time? Shakespeare?"

Isabelle Lightwood was an opinionated woman, not at all interested in conventionality. She did what she wanted to do. Some people disliked her intensely, but some people believed she was Revolution herself, in the form of a beautiful, sharp young lady. She was hardly ever sentimental, often mistaken for being emotionless, but beneath her cold face lay immense love and depths of loyalty and friendship.

Alexander merely smiled. He was well acquainted with his sister's snippy personality.

"No, Isabelle. It's Aline. Not that Aline's expressing her long repressed interest for literature, if that's what you're thinking", he added hastily, seeing Isabelle's eyebrows arched in surprise. "She was so kind as to invite us to an Exhibition in the Hull tonight. Fancy going there?"

"Oh, I'd love to. You know I like her art, and I admire Aline so much for daring to take even a miniscule step to defy those futile beliefs." Here, she scrunched up her face in disgust.

"Could you please go to Hodge and ask him whether he could ask Jace if he'd like to come along?"

"I'm sure he will. You know he'll never miss an opportunity to show off about the city's finest art to Clarissa. I know, Alec", she said before Alexander could cut her off, "I know you'd rather not have her there. But being civil is all this situation warrants. Won't you at least do that for Jace?" Her voice softened at the last question.

Truth be told, Alexander wasn't very fond of Clarissa Morgenstern. Even that was putting it mildly. Even though he rarely displayed it, he disliked the little redhead intensely. She'd walked in like a red whirlwind into Jace's life and stolen all their precious few family moments when they would just relax and talk about inconsequential matters. Now, she occupied most of his brother's time and mind.

Alexander thought about what a fortune teller had once told Jace. She had said that Jace would fall in love with the wrong person. Cheap mummery and tricks, that's all they were, he thought. But never did he once think that she could have been right. That somehow she'd foreseen Jace falling in love with one of the Morgenstern's, a family famously known for their notoriety and debauched sense of humours. Rumour once had it that Valentine Morgenstern would eat human flesh with blood instead of wine.

Everyone had tried to warn Jace, but he'd seemed so irrevocably in love with the short redhead. He just couldn't listen to reason. Alexander sighed. He hoped against hope that Clarissa wouldn't break his adopted brother's heart, or worse, turn out to be a cannibal.

He shook his head to clear it of such obscene thoughts.

Isabelle cleared her throat and moved forward, her dainty hand clasping her brother's wrist, gently but firmly. "Alec," she breathed. "I'll look out for Jace. You know I will."

Alec swallowed and looked up at her pristine, fair face. "I believe you will. It's me who is not quite capable of taking of family."

"Alexander Lightwood, we've been through this. Whatever happened the other day was a dark misfortune and it was certainly not your fault."

He closed his eyes and nodded vigorously, trying to will the tears away.

"I know, I know. Apologies, sister. Now, would you be so kind as to ring for Hodge?"

 **And, that's it. Do tell me if you thought it was rubbish, or if I should continue this. For I can get carried away in my own judgement and I want the clear brevity of the truth.**

 **Review, please.**


	2. Of Friends and Acquaintances

**Hello, again. I really liked the reviews, thank you. I quite understand that feeling now when authors say that it makes their day when they get a new review.**

 **Also, I have been look for a beta reader to proofread this story. PM me if you may be interested.**

 _He visualized the swirling skies, the moonlight as it seeped through the whole scene, making it dream-like and drenched in serendipity. Everything about the picture spoke about the quiet strength in the stillness and quiet. A lone figure stood there, unmoving and beautiful. It was a woman, with dark hair and a fair complexion. She looked frail, but something about her eyes suggested otherwise. They were the eyes of warrior, one who'd seen much of the world, but still had faith and hope._

Alexander could appreciate the brevity of this beauty. He thought it was much like what revolution was about, silence, tolerance, but immense in its strength. Indomitable, he thought it to be. You never could comprehend how powerful something really was until they'd had a display of their power.

He cast a thoughtful eye around. Isabelle was conversing with Clarissa, a strained smile on her face. As if it physically hurt her to look down at the little redhead and keep a civil tongue.

Clarissa Morgenstern was a tiny little thing, about two heads shorter than Alexander. She had bright green eyes, like a fire tended with salt; blazing and passionate. Her hair was curled up into a bright orange, the same colour as that of the setting sun. She _was_ beautiful, Alexander thought begrudgingly.

"Alexander!" He jumped, startled.

"Apologies, my lord. Did I startle you? I am most dreadfully apologetic." It was Aline, fair-haired and thin, smiling brightly up at him.

"No, no, Aline. It's perfectly copacetic. Oh, I was merely observing these lovely creations of yours." He peered at the gilded caption below it, written in elaborate calligraphy, 'Ignis Aurum Probat.'

"Fire tests gold", murmured Aline softly, her eyes like stormy clouds, tracing every contour of her masterpiece.

Alexander merely looked at her face, open and wondering, as if she herself were seeing it for the first time. As if she had been searching for the meaning of this futile existence, and finally she had discovered it.

And Alexander knew in that moment that that picture meant enormously to her, spoke to her about something only she could comprehend. As if on that note, she spoke up.

"It so happens, Alexander, the most precious of beings have to be weathered for their exact merit to materialise. Some break under this test, while some shine brighter and become priceless in their worth. She was one of those who shone brighter. She seemed so calm and collected, but she had fire burning through her veins. She was the most passionate person I have known."

Gently, he placed a hand on her bony shoulder. This gesture spoke volumes of gratitude and friendship.

"If this seems like an impertinent interrogation, take it as a liberty to reprimand me," and here she smiled craftily at him, "but why do you speak of her as if she were a thing of the past?"

He chose his words very circumspectly. He knew that this was someone very beloved to her, and without the right words, she would never trust anyone. He desired her to see that she could trust him, no matter how dismal the situation might be.

"Helen," she breathed. "Her name is Helen. And I digress; she is not deceased, as you are undoubtedly contemplating. No, she just dwells… away."

"She was very precious to you." He spoke it tenderly, but firmly. Like a statement that needed no further inquiries.

"Yes." She paused, her clear grey eyes darting around warily. "She was very precious to me."

It was very nearly midnight when they departed, Jace ordering Hodge to hail a coach for them.

Jace was named so because of his initials, _JC._ He was just an infant when he was forsaken by his true blood relations. He grew up to be a fine young man, as tall as Alexander. His hair was a perfect gleaming golden, and his tawny features often made him look like a magnificent lion on the prowl, majestic in all his glory.

"Hey there! Hello, sir, may I inquire as to why you're on the stone-cold steps on a chilly night like this? You should move inside."

It was Jace, speaking to a stranger sitting on the stone stairs at the entrance. He looked very frail, very thin. His back was facing Alexander, so he couldn't see much of the person.

It was chivalry more than responsibility which drove him to approach the stranger. He looked up.

He was adrift.

Alexander was entranced. His eyes were slightly curved, implicitly alluding to an Asian heritage. But they were crystal. It was a vortex, he found himself looking at a plethora of colours, and he could swear he was drowning. Sea green, with tiny specks of golden made him question his belief of the magnitude of the world.

"Sir." The man had a deep voice, rough like sandpaper, as if he hadn't had cause to use it for many moons. He cleared his throat almost instantaneously.

"I-Forgive this most indecent transgression, sir. I seem to be much disoriented tonight." Alexander almost stumbled upon his words, something he almost never did. He prayed that no one had discerned it.

As it was, Isabelle gave a sophisticated, lady-like snort.

But the stranger did not even glimpse at her. It suddenly struck Alexander how out of place they looked.

The Asian man seemed to recover his manners too.

"Lord Lightwood, if I'm not wrong." He bowed deeply. "Forgive me, sir." He looked at Jace, finally breaking the connection their eyes had formed. "I am merely expecting my carriage, which seems to have been unreasonably delayed as of late. Catarina is growing irresponsible."

"Oh, that's not an issue at all! You may accompany us, if you want to, of course." Alexander said hastily.

"That is very benevolent of you, sir. I would travel with you, if you'd allow me to." He dropped another deep bow.

Alexander looked at his attire for the first time. His clothes were very well tailored, if a little elaborate. He doubted it would suit anyone else.

"I'm Magnus Bane, sir, from the Orient." Orient was a popular establishment in Leicester Square which dealt with the study of culture. He held his hand out for Alexander to shake it.

Alexander extended his gloved hand and shook it with Magnus'. Even though he had been wearing white silk gloves, Magnus' hand seemed very warm in his.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you, Magnus." Magnus Bane. That word seemed exotic in his mouth, one that spoke of unpredictability and fervour and greatness.

Magnus Bane.

 **I have always really liked the friendship between Alec and Aline. That camaraderie says so much about love and integrity.**

 **Also, I have always wanted to use "that that" in a sentence. Finally, that wish came true.**

 **Please review.**

 **Pat.**


	3. Of Shades of Azure and Emerald

**Hello, my lovely people. I am rather ashamed for the lack of a chapter for THREE MONTHS. I apologize profusely, in the promises that I will be regular now.**

 **I am also planning one more story right now, based on an NSFW boxing prompt on tumblr. Malec, of course. It will be a smutty one-shot, and to set a deadline for myself, it will be within two weeks.**

 **Beta'd by BooksAndMusicAreLife. Thanks so much for putting up with me and working so fast *blows kisses***

 **Before I forget, there was this song that helped me write this chapter. I recommend y'all to listen to it for IMMERSION! Haha Phan reference. It's Distance~Christina Perri.**

It was ever so shameful, Alexander thought, when love and affection werereducedto something wrong and immoral. He hurt for Aline, how such a pure soul such as herscould be forced to part with theirbeloved. He couldn't understand how love, something so pure and absolute, could be declared then, those are the types of thoughts his father had warned him not to harborbecause to have a thoughts such as these would mean that he was something abnormaland uncommon, and that was very, very unsafe.

He shook his head. It was no good thinking about these matters presently. He would just get more confused or he would swivel deeper into an abyss of misery. On Aline's part, of course.

Now he had to travel to Downing Streetin Orient. One of the busiest places of this already bustling city, Downing Street was no less than what Coketown had been described as by Charles Dickens. The huge industrial buildings and the factories gave it a rather dream-like feel. Alexander loved being there, where he could forget about what he was supposed to be and just be a commoner.

Orient. Maybe he'd go and pay his acquaintance Magnus Bane a visit. He could feel a smile growing on his face from that thought and instead of hindering himself like he always did, he simplyenjoyed the feeling of having a friend. And he was excited only because Magnus had appeared to be rather mysterious, and he wanted to be his friend. Of course that was the only reason he looked forward to travelling to Orient, nothing else. He stopped himself from thinking about his celestial eyes.

Announcing to Hodge that he had to leave, he took with him the letters he had to post and got into his awaiting carriage. His chipper mood was quite apparent because on every other day he usually wore a rather sullen and thoughtful face, but today he couldn't stop smiling at the world and jigging his knee, something his mother called a bad his mother wasn't here at the moment.

Unknowingly, that thought put him in an even better mood.

At the post office, he asked a silver-haired man the whereabouts of Mr Bane.

"Oh, Magnus? Yeah, you'll find him at the Orient Library most likely. God knows that's all he's been doing this past week. We've all asked him to act like a normal person and eat at least twice a day, but he acts like we aren't talking at all. Really, that man." He had a certain glint in his eye when he spoke of him, that unfamiliar aura of mischief that was often elusive to Alexander was like second nature to the man.

"Do you work there too?" Alexander asked him.

"Not at the library, no. But around here in Leicester Square, I own a pub. Do pay a visit sometime. Tell the lady there that Will sent you." He winked at Alexander.

"Assuredly. Maybe I'll be able to convince Magnus to eat, too." He said in a playful tone, mirroring that of Will's.

"Oh, you've known him long?"

Well, no. He'd just been briefly acquainted with himlast night, when he had offered him a lift in his carriage. Recalling yesterday's ride, it was all Alexander could do to not giggle like a little girl in that moment.

Alexander had grown so used to Jace and Isabelle bickering, he didn't even spare them a second glance. Speaking of glancing, though, there was a certain someone who had been secretly stealing looks at Alexander's face through his unruly black hair while Alexander remained completely oblivious to the undivided attention he was receiving.

"Lord Lightwood?"

Alexander snapped out of his reverie and he glanced up at the beautifully made (what decadent thoughts were these?) stranger. His quaint green-gold eyes glimmered almost maliciously in the darkness and Alexander found himself gulping in apprehension. He replied, "Please don't call me that. It makes me feel infinitely older and more authoritative, both of which I am not."

The corner of Magnus' mouth lifted up in a half-smile, almost like a smirk, "As you wish, Alexander. Though I must say I am very grateful you came to rescue me so heroically and then, being so generous, offered me a ride. If it weren't for you I would still have been sitting in the cold."

 _If it weren't for you._ "I didn't rescue you. Jace did. In the least, he spotted you sitting in the cold, as you so call it."

"Do not belittle yourself. You were the one who offered me a ride and, _"_ here his tone turned almost pleading, " _I know_ that you consider yourself to be something superficial compared to your brother."

Alexander sucked in a deep breath, trying not to be obvious in his present disorientation. "You've just met me, Magnus. You aren't- you were- what makes you say that I belittle myself?" _Stop faltering in your speech, Alexander,_ he chastised himself.

Magnus, surprisingly, smiled. "Everyone has heard of Lord Lightwood. Everyone has heard of your charitable acts, but you are like a recluse. You never acknowledge your altruistic exploits, not ever. It's not exactly strenuous to reckon that you borderline disparage yourself."

"I…"

"Alec, what do you suppose? There's Tessa's little tea party to look forward to. Will you go?" It was, undoubtedly, Isabelle. She was already greatly excited about a ball her dear friend Tessa would be throwing in three months' time.

"There's still time remaining Isabelle, a lot of it. And you know I don't fancy dancing." Alexander gently chastised her, but Isabelle was not one to let things go so easily. There was a look in the depths of her blue eyes that said that they would continue this conversation later on.

The carriage swerved off a bump in the rocky road, and halted in front of Downing Street.

"Is this your destination, Mr Bane?" The carriage driver asked him.

"Oh, yes, my home is a few paces away. I'll walk." Opening the door of the carriage, he got out, and turned to the others.

"Do pay me a visit sometime, you've been pleasing company as well as kind. And Alexander, remember what I told you. I live in that cottage at the end of the road, you're all very welcome." He made a sweeping bow.

Isabelle muttered something that suspiciously sounded like, "Especially him."

Magnus shook hands with all of them for the last time, kissing the back of Isabelle's palm, as was considered proper. Alexander held Magnus' hand a little longer than was necessary, but neither of his siblings noticed.

As the carriage moved back onto the road, making its way to the Lightwood House, Alexander fell back against the silken cushions. He smiled when neither Jace nor Isabelle were looking his way. He had made a new friend.

 **Aaaand that's it for today, till next time!**

 **Pat.**


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